<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>I would kill to be yours by Asthenos, Twilight Fang (Asthenos)</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29419188">I would kill to be yours</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asthenos/pseuds/Asthenos'>Asthenos</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asthenos/pseuds/Twilight%20Fang'>Twilight Fang (Asthenos)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dead by Daylight (Video Game), Friday the 13th Series (Movies), Halloween Movies - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>First Date, Fluff, M/M, Romance, Valentine’s Day</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 03:27:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,379</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29419188</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asthenos/pseuds/Asthenos, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asthenos/pseuds/Twilight%20Fang</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Valentine’s Day has always been a major pain for Jason and totally nonexistent for Michael. What happens when they decide to spend it together?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Michael Myers/Jason Voorhees</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>43</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>I would kill to be yours</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p><b>Happy Valentine’s Day!</b> 💕🧁 </p><p>Seeing as how I can’t pass out chocolates or candy through the Internet, I figured that I’d share some positivity and Jason/Michael romance instead.</p><p>
  <b>Please do not repost this fic.</b>
</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Valentine’s Day was the worst day of the year. Nothing encouraged frivolous sex with zero-emotional attachment more than February the 14th. Jason absolutely hated Valentine’s Day. Aside from the summer camping season, Valentine’s Day kept him so busy that he had no time to sit down and relax. From sunup to sundown, Jason spent the ‘<em>romantic</em>’ day barging into nearby bedrooms and tearing apart love nests - aka camping tents - to get to the horny little bastards inside. By the end of the day, his clothes and weapons were always saturated with blood and his spirits were at an all-time low.</p><p>What if he skipped this Valentine’s Day? He could always go back to sleep and pretend that it didn’t exist. Would Mother be disappointed in him if he gave up his duties for this one miserable day of the year?</p><p>
  <em>Rap! Rap!</em>
</p><p>Startled to hear such a purposeful knocking on the entranceway to his shack, Jason grabbed his machete and sprang to his feet. How dare someone disturb him this early in the morning! This time was reserved for the tribute he paid to his mother, for there was no one that he loved more than her. The mindless chasing, screaming and murdering wasn’t due to begin for another eight hours, at least.</p><p>Flinging open the rotting front door, Jason expected to find a lost hiker or some other form of imbecile awaiting certain death. But that’s not what he found. In fact... he found no one. There was not a soul to be seen anywhere near Jason’s rickety home, although he did smell a familiar sweet scent. It kind of reminded him of pumpkin spice, which was really weird. Where did he know that scent from? Who did it belong to and where was that person now?</p><p>A bright metallic glint caught Jason’s eye, forcing him to look down by his feet. Since he was mighty tall, he did not appreciate having to look down so far. It gave him a crick in his neck. But when he noticed the neatly wrapped package sitting on his doorstep, he was glad that he had made the effort. Off to one side of the wooden planks that were serving as a doorstep was a small box wrapped in blood-red metallic paper. Pasted to the top of the box was a big black bow. Red and black. What did it mean?</p><p>Peering around the corner of the shack, Jason tried to find the person who had abandoned the pretty package. Unfortunately, there was no sign of anyone, nor could Jason hear any sounds of activity - namely breathing or heartbeats - in the area. Either the person was long gone or they were an expert at concealing themselves.</p><p><em>Is this for me?</em> It couldn’t be, could it? Who would give Jason a present on Valentine’s Day? Surely it had to have been left on the wrong doorstep. Oh well, that was not Jason’s problem. Since he never got any presents, he was terribly hard up for one. And this one smelled like chocolate. Chocolate was hard to come by out in the middle of the woods. Despite that being the case, Jason really liked chocolate. Who didn’t?</p><p><em>Today is a lucky day!</em> Feeling extra good about himself, Jason bent down, picked up the pretty box, and took it inside.</p><p>He sat back down on the rug in the living room and showed the head that belonged to his mother the shiny package. Imagining her praising him for being such a good boy - even though Jason had stopped being a boy many decades ago - he tore into the package. He was stunned and confused when he saw the small note taped to the black box inside. He forced himself to read it three times, then four, just to make sure that his eyes were not deceiving him.</p><p>
  <em>~Jason,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Please be mine. I would kill to be yours.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Anonymous~</em>
</p><p><em>Jason?!</em> How many Jasons were there in this neck of the woods? Just one. Had there been any others, Jason would have killed them by now. There was no mistaking the fact that this gift had been intended for him from the start. Someone had given him a Valentine’s present! <em>For me!</em> Jason was so excited he could barely sit still as he pried open the box. What was inside? Who could it be from? His jaw dropped when he saw the homemade chocolate heart inside. It was fairly large and plump enough to be a cake. That meant that it was probably filled with something soft and sweet in the middle. Melted onto the rather large chocolate heart were two white chocolate ghosts with a red heart between them. Ghosts! On Valentine’s Day!</p><p>
  <em>Ghosts!</em>
</p><p>There was only one person whom Jason knew that would be eccentric enough to mix Halloween with Valentine’s Day - Michael Myers. <em>Michael sexy Myers!</em> The devilishly handsome young man whom Jason had a massive crush on had made him chocolates! Picturing that slender beauty slaving over artistically crafted sweets with those delicate hands of his caused Jason to swoon. Were the ghosts supposed to represent Jason and Michael? The ghost on the left was nearly twice as big as the little ghost on the right. So the one on the left had to be Jason. <em>Michael wants to be my ghost!</em> Jason was so overcome with joy that he felt like dancing. However, he stopped himself from that nonsense immediately because his shack was too small and rather sensitive to vibrations. He was getting sick and tired of making a new one every time someone trespassed inside one of the old ones. That was why his current home was still a bare skeleton on the inside. The less time and energy he put into his shack, the less anger and frustration he would feel when it came time to move again.</p><p>
  <em>What should I do?</em>
</p><p>Any normal idiot would have probably gone rushing outside to find Michael. But not Jason. Jason knew the amount of courage it had probably taken Michael to drop off that gift. Whereas Jason was fierce and aggressive, Michael was awfully cool and withdrawn. Making sweets to give away as presents was definitely not something that the moody Haddonfield killer made a habit of doing. So, if Jason just went looking for Michael to say thank you, his perfect little Valentine would end up feeling unappreciated. Because even Jason was familiar with what was considered polite behavior on Valentine’s Day. If he wanted to show Michael how much he loved and cherished him, he would need to reciprocate the effort Michael had made - tenfold. Jason was no stranger to grand gestures. He was quite confident that he could put a romantic gift together that would sweep the spooky killer off of his feet.</p><p><em>Sorry, Mother,</em> Jason thought to himself. <em>There is someone that I love just as much as you.</em> He knew his mother would understand because there were many forms of love. The love that he reserved for Michael was not something that a mother would be jealous of anyway.</p>
<hr/><p>
  <em>Why did I do that? What was I thinking?</em>
</p><p>Michael paced back and forth inside the locked up summer cottage that he had broken into. It was freezing outside. An hour ago it had begun to snow and it was still showing no signs of stopping. When was the last time he had weatherproofed his boots? There was nothing worse than cold, wet feet. He didn’t want to go back outside, but he would have to if he didn’t want to starve to death. His plan for the day hadn’t involved eating a proper meal inside his borrowed home. Even if it had, the cupboards were bare and the kitchen lacked a fridge to raid. He had only picked up everything that he needed to make those chocolates for Jason on the way over. When had he dropped off that present? At least eleven hours ago. It had been a little after 1 a.m. when he had carefully placed the wrapped package on Jason’s doorstep and then gotten the hell out of there.</p><p>
  <em>Should I have stayed?</em>
</p><p>Jason would have had something to eat inside his mini fortress. The unfriendly giant was very well adapted to living in the wilderness and was built like a man who feasted on protein. He regularly went hunting and fishing and always had something appetizing cooking away on a pot over his outdoor fire. But Michael never managed to creep close enough to see what was inside that pot. Jason made him nervous in a way he was unaccustomed to. Sure, they hung out together and shared the same space on occasion, but Jason had never invited Michael back to his home. It was commonly understood that a slasher’s home was sacred, and trespassing anywhere on the property warranted a vicious and painful death. Jason was particularly sensitive about his home because that’s where he kept the remains of his mother. To protect both his mother and his privacy, Jason kept enough traps on the premises to maim and decapitate a small army. It had taken all of Michael’s concentration to get onto and off of the property unscathed.</p><p>When a small pathetic sound broke the silence inside the empty cottage, Michael hunched over and hugged his stomach. He was so hungry! He had skipped dinner last night and breakfast this morning in order to make Jason those chocolates. It would soon be lunchtime, but there was nothing to eat and nowhere he could scavenge food from. If Jason was offended by the Valentine’s present, then he most certainly wouldn’t invite Michael over for lunch.</p><p>
  <em>Eleven hours...</em>
</p><p>Had Jason liked the present, he would have come to find Michael by now, wouldn’t he? It wasn’t like Michael was hiding or anything since he had intentionally broken into a cottage that was close to the lake. Nothing triggered Jason’s temper worse than new property being developed down by the lake. That’s what this cottage basically was - new and unfinished. It had yet to be lived in and most likely never would be. What had Jason done to scare off the builders? The entire second floor was sealed off with a tarp due to the fact that the cottage was missing a roof. There were also tools scattered all over the place, which made the quaint little home a safety hazard.</p><p><em>Maybe I should have signed my name...</em> No, that wouldn’t have made a difference. The white chocolate ghosts should have made it obvious who the present was from. Although Jason was hotheaded and often solved his problems with brute strength, there was nothing wrong with his intelligence level. He would have immediately figured out who the sender of the gift was upon seeing the ghosts.</p><p><em>I guess that I misread the situation...</em> Which just figured because Michael lacked common sense when it came to relationships. He didn’t understand them and wanted no part of them... except that he did enjoy Jason’s company - <em>a lot!</em> It was just too bad that Jason didn’t feel the same way.</p><p>Dejectedly pulling back on the gloves and winter coat he had stolen back in town, Michael opened the front door and prepared to step out into the snowy afternoon. He had been spending every birthday and holiday alone for the past fifteen years. The loss of another Valentine’s Day wouldn’t mean much to him. He could trek back into town, help himself to some loving couple’s romantic dinner, and hide away in a closet somewhere until the day was over. Hopefully he wouldn’t pass out from hunger on the 10-mile hike back.</p><p>Just as he was coming around the corner of the cottage, Michael jerked to a stop and took a step backwards. There in his path was Jason. They usually kept a polite distance from each other, so Michael hadn’t realized just how big the undead man was until he’d nearly crashed right into him. Jason dwarfed Michael and made him feel somewhat tiny and breakable by comparison. It was kind of like a cat running into a bear. Was Jason angry? He was just standing there like he was frozen in stone. Perhaps he <em>had</em> been offended by the chocolates. Or maybe it had been the very blunt Valentine’s message Michael had written that had set the beast of a man off.</p><p>Now feeling incredibly sad and rejected, Michael half-heartedly pulled out his knife and prepared to defend himself.</p><p>When Jason thrust something delicate into his face that looked nothing like a weapon, Michael blinked in disbelief. <em>A rose</em>... Jason was giving him a long stemmed ruby red rose. Not knowing what to do or how to react, Michael instinctively put away his knife and accepted the rose. Then he looked up into the eye holes of that battered hockey mask, trying to gauge Jason’s mood. <em>Excited</em>... Jason was excited and full of nervous energy. He wasn’t angry at all.</p><p>Holding the rose up to his own masked face, Michael inhaled the sweet perfume of his first floral present ever. He usually left plants and flowers alone because he never stayed in the one place long enough to enjoy them. And he couldn’t eat them. So they served no purpose. But he really liked this rose. It was such a vibrant hue of red and the smell made him happy, although he couldn’t figure out why. Then it hit him. Jason had given him a rose. Jason <em>loved</em> him. Had Jason simply <em>liked</em> him, he would have given Michael a pink rose instead of a red one. Jason had too much experience with lovers and symbolic gifts not to understand the difference, as was to be expected from the self-appointed Grim Reaper of Valentine’s Day.</p><p>Before Michael could react to the rose, one of Jason’s large hands dropped to his waist and gave him an insistent push in the direction of the lake. Glancing back at Jason, Michael did as he was instructed and curiously headed down to the snowy beach area. But Jason wrapped his arm firmly around Michael’s shoulders and tugged him past the beach and towards the icy dock. Tied to the end of the dock was a small rowboat, and in it was what looked like a large picnic basket and a blanket folded up on the far bench. Was Jason going to take him out onto the lake?</p><p>When Michael glanced over his shoulder questioningly, Jason grunted and urged him out onto the dock. From there, Jason wasted no time in lifting Michael off of his feet and placing him carefully inside the boat. So not only had Jason touched him for the first time, but he had also picked him up and held him close enough to kiss. This was a date, wasn’t it? It had to be. Why else would Jason be going to so much trouble? Friends didn’t share a picnic lunch in a small cramped boat in the middle of the lake on Valentine’s Day. At least not that Michael knew of.</p><p>Once Michael was comfortably seated on the far bench, Jason untied the boat and pushed away from the dock with one of the wooden oars. But he didn’t start rowing immediately. Instead, he picked up the thick burgundy blanket from the bench, shook it open, and bent forward to wrap it around Michael.</p><p>
  <em>This is a date!</em>
</p><p>Michael felt an alien warmth from inside that had nothing to do with that woolly blanket. He sat there with his rose in one hand and the ends of the blanket in the other, holding it closed around him as the boat glided out onto the chilly lake. All the while he watched Jason easily slicing those oars into the water and propelling the boat further and further out. It was from a distance that he was able to fully appreciate the winter wonderland that they were surrounded by. The wide expanse of trees formed an endless parade of white and green that wrapped around the lake. Up close it had been difficult to see just how heavily laden with snow the tree branches were, but from afar there was more snow to see than trees. Everything was so beautiful, white and shiny. What little there was to see of the sun reflected heavily off of the pure white snow, temporarily blinding Michael when he tried to admire the scenery before him. His eyes were rather sensitive to the light thanks to all the time he had spent indoors as a child - and as an adult. In fact, he rarely ventured outside during the day as he considered himself to be more of a nocturnal creature. He only made an exception when Jason came calling on him, pestering him to go on long walks through the woods or down by the lake early in the morning or late in the afternoon. That was how they had originally become friendly with each other. Michael had been just passing through Crystal Lake and Jason had taken an interest in him, which had led to that initial unspoken invitation for a late afternoon stroll.</p><p>The boat rocked menacingly for a moment when Jason dropped the oars inside the boat and twisted around to get at that picnic basket.</p><p>Would the boat capsize with Jason leaning backwards like that? Michael honestly did not want to find out. The water would be freezing on a day like today. It was a small miracle that the lake hadn’t frozen over yet. Just thinking of what it would be like to plunge into those frigid waters caused Michael to shiver.</p><p>When Jason suddenly took his hand to press a stainless steel tumbler into it, Michael made a small sound of surprise. During the few months that Michael had been free of the sanitarium, nobody had touched him. He never <em>let</em> anyone touch him. He was fed up with being pushed around and treated like a caged animal. Because the only form of touch he knew was that of hate or malice. But being touched by Jason was nothing like that. Jason’s touch was firm but gentle. He was not threatening Michael with restraint or punishment. He simply wanted Michael to keep his grip on the tumbler. What was in the tumbler? Did it matter? In order to drink the mystery beverage, Michael would have to lift up his mask, at least far enough to expose his mouth. However, as childish as it made him feel, Michael was too shy to do so. Revealing even a small part of his face to Jason would be like baring his soul for the man to see. But if he was so reluctant to reveal his true self to Jason, then what had been the point of giving him those chocolates in the first place? Truthfully, Michael had not thought so far ahead. Creating that gift had been an uncharacteristically impulsive action, for which he was not usually known. And now he was suffering the emotional backlash of such an ill-planned gesture.</p><p>Jason sat back and watched Michael, his eyes darkening with emotion when Michael resisted the drink that had been given to him. Then he made a deep, frustrated sound and placed his hands on his own mask. Not breaking eye contact, he pushed the leather straps up over his head and removed the mask.</p><p>Whatever Michael had been expecting Jason to look like, it was nothing like the kind face that now looked back at him. While there was an undeniable inhuman quality to Jason and his harsh misshapen features - as well as the dry, bloodless quality of his hard grayish skull - it did nothing to detract from the gentleness in those sunken hazel eyes, or the quirky upturned curve of that lopsided mouth. Jason was like a supernatural force that was capable of immeasurable death and mayhem, but he was gazing at Michael with a fondness that promised love and devotion instead. <em>This</em> was the Jason whom Michael had fallen in love with - the gentle beast that slumbered inside the vengeful monster.</p><p><em>Do you still love me now that you’ve seen the monster behind the mask?</em> Jason seemed to be challenging Michael, daring him to continue being stubborn. The message was loud and clear. If Michael left his mask on, he would be insulting Jason. If Jason was willing to share his true self with Michael, then Michael ought to have the decency to do the same. Michael had been the one to initiate this new development in their association, after all.</p><p>Michael had always been curious about Jason’s face. He had never considered the possibility that Jason also might want to see what his companion looked like. Why would Jason even care? Jason was a powerful warrior - a battle-hardened hero whom Michael admired. Michael, on the other hand, was nothing if not ordinary. He was not unique or special like Jason. He was only <em>human</em>, and Jason had proven time again that he despised those weak, flawed mortals.</p><p><em>You will be disappointed</em>, Michael silently warned Jason with a solemn look before he placed both the rose and the tumbler onto the bench beside him. Taking a deep breath and forcing himself to remain calm, he reached up and slowly pulled his mask off. He may as well have stripped down because that was how naked he felt after the removal of the mask. The cold air was suddenly whipping through his thick curly brown hair and stinging his nose and cheeks. Inhaling that frosty air made him feel short of breath and colder still. Snowflakes fell onto the tip of his nose and became trapped in his eyelashes, then melted before Michael could brush them off. It was very uncomfortable being assaulted by the environment while Jason stared at him in wonder.</p><p>Before Michael could become overly self-conscious and put back on the mask, Jason impulsively leaned forward to press both hands onto either side of Michael’s face. His hands were big, rough and dry, but - as usual - his touch was gentle. He peered into Michael’s blue eyes, even being so bold as to experimentally flick one of his fingers through Michael’s long eyelashes. But instead of appearing bored with Michael’s supposedly ordinary features, Jason looked mystified. He spent the next few minutes tracing Michael’s nose with the tip of his finger, stroking his palms over Michael’s cheeks, and caressing Michael’s smooth lips with his calloused thumb. The more he touched Michael, the more excited he became, and the more difficult it became for Michael to breathe and think clearly. Evidently, Jason did not find Michael boring in the least. To the contrary, he couldn’t have been more fascinated with every feature of Michael’s.</p><p>Finally, Jason lowered his face to Michael’s, affectionately rubbed their cheeks together, and growled by Michael’s ear. “You’re beautiful,” he praised in a tone negatively affected by his insufficient facial muscles.</p><p>Swallowing hard to contain his emotions, Michael began to doubt that he had heard anything at all. Jason couldn’t speak, could he? None of the historical accounts of Jason had ever mentioned verbal interaction. Then again, although Jason had been born with numerous crippling defects, the inability to speak had not been one of them.</p><p>“My beautiful Valentine,” Jason murmured as he wrapped both of those mighty tree trunk-sized arms around Michael and held him close.</p><p>“You can speak,” Michael blurted out without thinking.</p><p>“So can you!” Jason echoed with just as much amazement. He pressed Michael’s face against his massive chest and began to comb his fingers through Michael’s hair. “Curly... just like the angel.”</p><p>Holding the tumbler tighter for fear of dropping it while Jason was enthusiastically manhandling him, Michael wondered what angel Jason was referring to. Perhaps a keepsake given to him by his mother. That could be the only explanation because Jason was not the type to attend church, nor would he be welcome if he tried.</p><p>“Michael, my little ghost,” Jason said with plenty of affection. “We are alone out here. No enemies, no masks. No fear.”</p><p><em>Little ghost?</em> Was that to be Michael’s new nickname? Before Michael could inform Jason, with a good deal of annoyance, that he was afraid of nothing, Jason was pushing that tumbler at him again.</p><p>“Drink it and warm up.”</p><p>“I can’t,” Michael protested.</p><p>“Stubborn,” Jason said in a more forceful tone.</p><p>“No, I mean I can’t because you’ve trapped my arm,” Michael explained.</p><p>“Oh.” Jason loosened his grip, but only so much. He gave Michael just enough leeway to lift the tumbler to his lips, and no more. It would seem that Jason was not good at letting go. Which didn’t bother Michael because he secretly delighted in the way that Jason was smothering him with love and affection.</p><p>Taking a sip of the hot beverage inside the tumbler, Michael glanced at Jason in surprise. “Alcohol?” He had never drunk alcohol and assumed the same of Jason. There had never been any desire to experiment, not even after he was out on his own and free to do as he pleased.</p><p>“Alcohol?” Jason repeated in semi-disgust mixed with humor. “No.”</p><p>“But the smell...” It was so strong that Michael felt his eyes begin to water.</p><p>“Apple cider smells like that when it’s hot. And there’s a cinnamon stick inside.”</p><p>Apple cider... That was something Michael had never tried before. Taking another sip, he sighed when the steam from the tumbler eased the biting chill in his nose and cheeks. The drink was... <em>interesting</em> - very sweet, robust, and cloudy with unfiltered pulp. But it was nowhere near as interesting as the revelation that Jason could speak and was choosing to do so with Michael. Their entire exchange in general was quite exhilarating. “It’s nice,” Michael finally decided after a few more sips. “But it doesn’t taste like apples.”</p><p>Without warning, Jason took the tumbler from Michael and lifted it to his own stiff looking mouth. Tilting his head back a bit, he chugged down a few mouthfuls of the burning hot concoction. “It tastes like <em>hot</em> spicy apples and cinnamon,” he announced once he’d finished. Passing the tumbler back to Michael, he then released him to retrieve the picnic basket.</p><p>Michael looked at Jason, then at the opening on the lid of the tumbler, where Jason had just had his mouth. Feeling his heart beating a lot faster, Michael took another sip of the drink, all the while distinctly aware that he was drinking from the same place Jason had. It was a ridiculously intimate action for Michael, who usually suffered from a burst of murderous adrenaline when anyone so much as tried to touch him. But here he was sharing an indirect kiss with Jason through the opening in the tumbler lid.</p><p>“Do you like birds?” Jason lifted a medium sized clay pot out of the picnic basket and placed it on the bench beside him. Next, he produced two small bowls, two large spoons, and a ladle.</p><p>Michael instantly balked at the question. Did he like birds?! Yes. Probably. Well..., he didn’t mind them. Whatever his feelings on the matter, he sure as heck didn’t want to see a dead bird lying crumpled up inside that pot! “I think I’ll pass.” If Jason started tearing into a corpse of wings and feathers right in front of him, Michael was going to be ill.</p><p>“Why? You’re hungry,” Jason stated knowingly. He removed the lid from the pot, which allowed a cloud of steam to escape, and used the ladle to scoop up a serving of what looked like roasted meat and vegetables mixed in with fluffy wild rice.</p><p>“You said bird,” Michael accused, still tense from bracing himself for whatever nightmarish meal he’d imagined Jason had prepared for him.</p><p>“So?” Jason obviously did not get it. “A duck is a bird. You don’t like duck?”</p><p>“I like duck,” Michael said defensively.</p><p>“You’re strange and moody,” Jason pointed out. Sticking a spoon into the bowl that he had just filled, he passed it to Michael.</p><p>“It’s not my fault that you made me visualize a dead bird inside that pot.” Michael gratefully accepted the bowl and admired the mouth-watering juicy duck pieces scattered on top of the equally appetizing bed of rice. Jason had gone to the trouble of roasting the duck separately and then picking off all the meat so that Michael wouldn’t have to. So not only was Jason a closeted romantic, but he was also very thoughtful and considerate.</p><p>“That’s gross,” Jason said with a disapproving shake of his head. “Who puts dead birds inside pots?”</p><p>Apparently not Jason.</p><p>“Eat up! You will grow big and strong afterwards,” he promised without the slightest indication that he was joking.</p><p>Michael made no comment. It sounded too much like Jason was repeating something he had been told many times during his own youth. Perhaps that phrase had been the habitual way Jason’s mother started every meal. Like an unorthodox way of blessing the food they were about to enjoy together. There was nothing wrong with that. So Jason was slightly obsessed with his deceased mother. Michael could think of a lot worse character flaws than remaining dutiful and respectful to one’s mother even after her untimely demise.</p><p>They ate quickly while the food was still hot, with Michael occasionally swiping at snowflakes that tried to land on his spoon or inside his dish. It was an exceptionally delicious, hearty meal that was generous on the duck and somewhat heavy-handed on the seasoning. Michael enjoyed both the hot lunch and his date’s unsubtle attempts at flirting.Throughout the meal, Jason reached over to stroke Michael’s hair, complimented him on his fair skin, asked him his zodiac sign, and loudly informed him that there was enough space back in that nondescript shack in the woods for two.</p><p>“Does it always get so foggy out here?” Michael asked when the constantly falling snow turned into a grey mist so thick it may as well have been an opaque shield. There was now snow in his hair, lining his eyebrows, in his eyelashes, and covering the blanket. He had to keep shaking his head and knocking the blanket to dislodge the snow before it melted and made everything wet.</p><p>“Often,” Jason replied. “No one will bother us out here.” Unlike Michael, he didn’t seem to care that the snow was accumulating on top of his bald head and the shoulders of his deerskin jacket. But he did grin when Michael stretched over to brush it all off. Hunching over, he patted down the space under the bench until he found a gas lantern. Placing the lantern down on the bench, he opened the lamp door and withdrew a lighter from his jacket pocket. Flicking a flame into existence, he held it over the tip of the burner while turning the gas-valve counter-clockwise. Almost instantly, the lantern burst to life with a loud <em>whoosh</em>. Jason quickly adjusted the flame until it became a pleasant glow, as opposed to a gas explosion waiting to happen.</p><p>Michael instinctively leaned closer to the lantern, attracted to the warm glow of the flame. “How long can we stay out here?” He didn’t really want to ask, but he also wanted to prepare himself for the moment when Jason announced that enough was enough and steered them back towards shore so that he could get on with his day.</p><p>“Do you have plans?” Jason asked, sounding unhappy and disappointed.</p><p>“No. I thought you did...” Everyone knew what Jason did on Valentine’s Day. Just as everyone knew why he did it. Jason had a serious problem with any type of sexual activity that took place inside his territory. But he was especially vicious when it came to Valentine’s Day. The killing Michael could understand, but not the why or when. Michael’s urges were far more complex and occurred a lot less frequently - namely only on Halloween - which is why he had trouble understanding this part of Jason.</p><p>“Oh.” Jason now sounded relieved. “I got out early this morning and finished up before making lunch. I have all day for you, my little ghost.” Jason beamed at Michael in his rather carnivorous way.</p><p>Unused to being treated with such importance, Michael shyly smiled back.</p><p>“And I have a present for you.”</p><p><em>Dessert?</em> That picnic basket looked awfully spacious. What else was Jason hiding inside it? While the duck-on-rice lunch had been more than sufficient to appease Michael’s hungry stomach, he definitely wouldn’t refuse something like cake or pudding.</p><p>However, Jason left the picnic basket alone and reached into his pocket instead. Holding out a dark wooden object, he waited until Michael took it. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Michael.”</p><p>And a Happy Valentine’s Day it most certainly was! “This is incredible!” Michael marveled at the small wooden blade that he now held in his hands. It was much shorter than the knives he was used to handling, but that would make it all the easier to conceal. The fact that it was made out of wood did not make it any less lethal. Jason had whittled down both sides of the blade until it formed a tip sharp enough to pierce the toughest skin. It could be used either to slice or stab. On the short handle there were rough letters engraved onto the one side. ‘<em>You are already mine</em>,’ the block letters boldly stated. “Am I?” He looked at Jason in wonder, completely overwhelmed by his own happiness.</p><p>“You are,” Jason said with a firm nod. “You gave me your heart. I will never give it away because it is mine. And I will never eat it.”</p><p>Which heart did Jason mean? Michael’s literal heart or the chocolate one he had made? If Jason meant the heart beating inside Michael’s chest, then Michael was more than a little relieved that it was safe from being eaten. However, if he was referring to the chocolate heart... That was downright peculiar and more than a little nasty.</p><p>“Come, sit here.” Jason patted his lap in invitation.</p><p>Doing as he was told, Michael got up and - being careful not to rock the boat too much - made himself comfortable on Jason’s lap. It was much warmer there than the cold wooden bench he had been sitting on. And, as soon as he was safely seated, Jason grabbed hold of Michael’s leather gloves and pulled them off. Immediately afterwards, he closed Michael’s hands inside his much larger ones and squeezed tightly.</p><p>“I will never hate Valentine’s Day again,” Jason vowed, as if apologizing for ever hating it in the first place.</p><p>Michael had never hated Valentine’s Day, nor had he particularly liked it. But he predicted that he would be celebrating it every year from this year onwards.</p>
<hr/><p>The rest of the afternoon and part of the evening was spent in equal parts of silence and sporadic intervals of random conversation. Jason found that the silence was just as agreeable as the shamelessly direct questions that he asked Michael, and their corresponding answers. He liked holding Michael close and watching the romantic sunset together as the sky was set ablaze with splashes of fiery red, orange, pink, and purple. He couldn’t remember the colors ever being as saturated and intense as they were now. It was no doubt thanks to the current company.</p><p>When the sun began to dip below the horizon, Jason took out the little maple syrup cakes and berries that he had been saving for that particular moment. He held the plateful of cakes in front of Michael with the one hand while using the other to break off pieces and feed it to his beautiful date. More than once, he pushed his fingers into Michael’s mouth with the cake, savoring the sensation of that hot tongue licking the maple syrup off of them. He wasn’t sure which excited him more, teasing Michael or being teased by him.</p><p>“Can we do this again next year?” Michael asked in a drowsy voice laced with seduction after all the little cakes and berries were gone. He was lazily stroking Jason’s chest with one hand, with his head resting just below Jason’s shoulder. An hour or two ago, Jason had opened up his jacket and wrapped Michael inside it, pulling the blanket around them both. After a bit of coaxing, Michael had taken advantage of the limited space between them and begun to explore.</p><p>“We can do it again tomorrow if you want,” Jason offered, already mentally canceling what he had planned with the intention of spending more time with Michael. He buried his face in Michael’s hair, greedily inhaling the scent of pumpkin spice that he was now addicted to. His arms were wrapped around Michael’s back, and one of his hands was resting quite possessively on the curve of his date’s backside. It was no longer snowing and the sky was clear, but the temperature was steadily dropping. Soon they would have to head back, but Jason was very reluctant to do so. This was their private paradise. To leave it meant that the masks would have to go back on, and with them their individual made-up identities.</p><p>“Really?” Michael sounded amazed, as if the idea had never occurred to him. And perhaps it hadn’t.</p><p>Jason doubted that Michael had been shown much love growing up. His spooky companion probably thought that romantic encounters were limited to special occasions, like Valentine’s Day. How wrong he was. “Or we can have a romantic campfire,” Jason offered as an alternative.</p><p>In response, all Michael did was blissfully sigh.</p><p>As the sky grew darker, Jason began to grow restless. There was one part of his Valentine’s plan that had yet to materialize, mainly the all-important first kiss. He couldn’t rely on Michael to initiate it because his little ghost was most obviously a ‘<em>bottom</em>’. And Jason was a ‘top’. As the dominant partner, Jason was required to take whatever he wanted and hope that his submissive counterpart would not object to his actions. That was completely fine while Jason was bludgeoning people to death, which he was comfortable with doing, as opposed to the concept of stealing a kiss, which basically terrified him.</p><p>“Have you ever bitten anyone?” Jason asked as a precaution.</p><p>“Huh? Have I ever—?” Michael gazed up at Jason in confusion. “Why would I do that when I have a knife?”</p><p><em>Good. No biting.</em> Jason was in no danger of losing his tongue. But he couldn’t say the same about his mind. Michael’s angelic face coupled with those ardent blue eyes did things to Jason’s brain that could never be undone.</p><p>Gripping Michael’s chin with his fingers to prevent his date from escaping, Jason lowered his face to Michael’s. He registered surprise and nervousness in those blue depths before hepushed his mouth up against Michael’s. It was like a clashing of bone and hard tissue against silk and soft flesh. Jason had no idea how to kiss, but he revelled in the prospect of tasting those welcoming lips and nipping at the mischievous tongue that had already had a go at his fingers. It didn’t take long for Jason to figure it out, or for Michael to push up against him in order to make it easier. In the end, Jason slid his tongue into Michael’s mouth, and Michael did indeed bite him. Of course it hadn’t been on purpose and wasn’t at all unexpected as Michael was a feisty little creature. Jason eased Michael into the kiss, slipping two fingers into Michael’s mouth to nudge his teeth off and teach him that biting was not romantic. Not unless it was done properly, with the right amount of pressure, and in the right spot. But Jason had no intention of experimenting today. He wanted to enjoy Michael slowly and thoroughly so that their romance gradually increased in intensity, instead of quickly burning out like an overused flame.</p><p>At the end of the kiss, Jason admired his beautiful Valentine, held so securely in his arms with both eyes shut. Michael was panting hard and seemed to be attempting to compose himself before he opened his eyes again. <em>My Valentine is damaged?</em> Upon closer inspection of Michael’s face, Jason furrowed the protruding ridge of his brow line and skimmed his thumb gently under Michael’s left eye. There was a faint scar that ran from Michael’s eyebrow to just below his eye in a vertical line. It was almost unnoticeable at a distance but had managed to attract Jason’s attention in the glow of the lantern. When Michael stiffened and tried to pull away, Jason trapped him in an inescapable embrace.</p><p>“You are even more perfect like this,” Jason complimented Michael before he could take the silence the wrong way. Whatever had happened to Michael’s face was his business, <em>unless</em> he chose to share the painful memory with Jason. In the meantime, Jason would just have to show Michael that nothing could detract from his beauty. Bending his head down, he softly kissed the scar from top to bottom, caressing Michael’s cheek with his thumb as he did so.</p><p>“I got careless,” Michael muttered in apology for the injury.</p><p>“So did I.” Taking hold of Michael’s right hand, Jason pulled it up and towards the top of his head. He then guided it to the unnatural crevice angling down the left side of his forehead.</p><p>“What happened here?” Michael asked in shock, his own self-consciousness forgotten as he touched the spot that he had probably mistaken for one of the deformities that Jason had been born with.</p><p>“An axe,” Jason replied simply. “It was a painful lesson. I became more careful after that day.”</p><p>After a moment’s hesitation, Michael touched his own scar and looked sheepish. “I wish I could claim that I was attacked with something like a knife or an axe... but it was a clothes hanger.”</p><p>“A what?” Jason gawked at Michael in disbelief. He fingered the scar again and shook his head in dismay. “A harmless little clothes hanger left this behind? Really?” Jason would have to be extra careful when handling Michael in the future in order to avoid damaging that sensitive porcelain-white skin. However, he was delighted that Michael had chosen to share the details of that particular misadventure with him. He had always felt like he had a bond with Michael. This Valentine’s date had only made it many times stronger.</p><p>“Harmless?” Michael repeated with humor in his voice. “Do you know how jagged those wires are?”</p><p>“So we won’t have any of those in our home,” Jason decided.</p><p>“... <em>our</em> home?” Michael’s tone asked for clarification, but the faraway look in his eyes revealed that the idea had already been accepted.</p><p>“You’re not going back to that unfinished house,” Jason stated as he picked up the oars and dropped the fat ends into the water. “No,” he said quickly when Michael began to move off of him. “Stay where you are.” He wanted to keep his Valentine close for as long as possible.</p><p>“I wasn’t going to stay in that house,” Michael reassured Jason. “I was just waiting there for you. I have a place where I’m staying in town.”</p><p>“You’re not going there either.” In town? How far away was that? Imagining the distance between them with Michael staying ‘in town’ was enough to keep Jason awake at night. “You’re coming home with me tonight, my little ghost. And that’s where you’re going to stay.” Not welcoming any argument to the contrary, Jason continued to row in the direction of the dock.</p><p>When Michael hugged Jason tightly as he seemingly accepted his new living arrangement, Jason smiled so widely his jaw began to ache. It was the perfect conclusion to the perfect Valentine’s Day. Everyone who had attempted to flaunt their sexual proclivities on his land were dead, the duck on rice had been a big success, the sweet maple cakes had plied Michael enough to get a kiss out of him, and now Jason was taking Michael home with him. If only every day were half as exciting and wonderful as Valentine’s Day.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>